It was another late lazy morning. Hey, give me a break. We were on a tight schedule for 6 days! Breakfast at 8am!

I sat in our windowsill, read, and drank the complimentary coffee. It was peaceful and relaxing looking out at the mountains and down on the people going about their days. There wasn’t too many people out…probably because it was Sunday.

Eventually we wandered next door to a breakfast type spot and had some brunch. I had a quiche and salad. The salad was sliced tomatoes, avocado, and iceberg lettuce all neatly arranged like the slices of a pie. The tomato and lettuce were pretty gross. Perhaps it’s the wrong season for them? The avo tasted super good on the quiche though. Of course we each had cortados. It had been pretty clear that this was going to win out as the trip’s “Official Beverage.” (narrowly beating out rehd-büll)

We took a walk to a park I’d seen on the free hotel map. We saw a place to hop over the fence and in the spirit of adventure took it. The park didn’t seem to be a normal park, we saw a few clay tennis courts, then a few more, then a gated entrance. Oooooh maybe it’s a private tennis park? We shot a little film of people playing on these brilliant brick red courts w/ the grey Andes looming behind them. Then we sauntered out.

Along the way back I started taking picks of all the footprints, tire tracks, and paw prints in the sidewalks. I’d NEVER seen so many. All around Santiago people just walked through wet cement. They weren’t even writing their names or drawing bad anarchy symbols – they were just wandering through.

Somewhere along this road we also saw a guy trimming his lawn…with hand shears. really?

We got back to the hotel and were a little early for our airport departure…but we didn’t really have enough time to do anything besides check the intertubes and leave. So we did.

The route back to the airport was super easy. No losties.

Along the way, we drove past that section of river w/ all the trash on its banks. And there were multiple soccer games going on next to it. And the people watching the games must have been cold…cause they were burning the trash. Multiple open trash fires in a major city. Hmmm…might have something to do with why the air is so polluted.

We were too early for Delta. We couldn’t check in. The girl told us to come back in a couple hours…not that there were CLOCKS anywhere or anything. sheesh.

So we went to a little cafeteria type place and played some table football. It was a pretty close game. heh. I don’t think I’ve played that game in at least 10 years. It used to be the default thing I’d do whenever I went to a restaurant.

Will ordered a pepsi and a milkshake. They were both pretty gross. I had a glass of water and a beer. The water was totally undrinkable…probably why the other drinks were so foul. The water in our hotel was good…and the water in Farellones was awesome…but not at the airport.

Eventually we could get in line. It was a pretty massive que…since no one could check in early. Thanks Delta. We met a painter named Steve. He split his time between Studio City and Santiago. We chatted about a variety of things. One of the more amusing moments was when we told him about the Chileans complaining about other people’s Spanish. He laughed and said they had it all turned around. THEY spoke bad Spanish. If you wanted to learn it, he recommended Columbia.

Past security we had a pretty sweet meat sandwich and papas fritas meal. Some young American kids came up and talked to us. They noticed us in line with our snowboards and wanted to know about our trip. See – that’s a normal travel sort of experience.

After that we had just enough time to buy some Lucky Strikes and head for the plane. We’d be waking up in Atlanta.

——–

Atlanta was pretty miserable in the morning. Hot, muggy, and we waited in line after line. It took forever to get our bags, then to get through customs, then to get ALL my film and their cardboard boxes individually swabbed for explosives.

One guy did come up to us and ask if we were Pro Skaters. That was kinda cool. The rest of the time we occupied ourselves by planning what scams we could run to get to “Easy Street.” Most involved slipping and falling and then suing “Atlanta” or “Chile.” There were some other ideas…but I’m not posting those on the internets for people to poach!!!!

We were really pushing the time to make our connection…we didn’t do the “Home Alone” run through the airport, but we moved as quick as possible. We didn’t get food, go to the bathroom, have a smoke, or get coffee.

On the escalator up to our gate there was a woman blocking the entire step. I said “excuse me.” She turned and looked and me, then turned around and didn’t move. I said it again.

Then we tried it in: French, Spanish, Italian, German, and Japanese.

That’s SIX languages. She didn’t move.

We got off the escalator and walked quickly past her. I walked a *little* too close and “accidentally” ran over her foot with my rollie bag. Oops.

Will was proud.

Buuuut. We missed our flight. Epic fail Delta. Epic fail.

Well at least I rolled over her foot. And we now had time to get some good ol ‘Merican breakfast; bacon, eggs, and grits!

Delta squeezed us on the next flight. The guy next to me freaked out whenever we hit turbulence.

Soon we were back in 90+ degree Los Angeles, sweating our balls off. It was just a little bit confusing to go to sleep in Winter and wakeup in the middle of Summer.

A cab ride home, a shower, a short rest, then I took Will back to the airport. On the way home I stopped at the Apple store and got a new iPhone.

Bitchin’ Eagle bro. Bitchin’ Eagle.

-Lukw

p.s. Stay tuned for the Super8 film coming soon…I think I finally found a track to use…

Even when I’m up until 5am I still feel a little guilty about sleeping in. Less so on vacation though…

I’m not sure when we got up, but it was later than breakfast time. I stumbled down to the bar and ordered a cortado, some empanadas, and then waited for the intertubes.

The plan for the day was fairly loose. In the guidebook there was a downtown walking tour mapped out. I modified it a bit so we wouldn’t have to change subway lines. We packed up, grabbed the super 8, and headed towards the nearest subway station.

It was a bit of a walk. The subway didn’t really run out in our direction. If I ever go to Santiago again I’m not going to stay in Vitacura. It was like we were staying in Beverly Hills. A couple blocks away from our hotel was a street w/ expensive boutiques. The house and apartments were all really nice. The whole area was pretty new. Too far away from the action.

It makes me wonder about the girl that recommended this area…I wonder what she’s like?

Anyhoo, as we walked we stopped to film a fountain and some street performers. We got a snack at a “Big John’s” convenience store. My small bottle of coke was like 30 cents. See! This is what I’d been missing. At the ski area everything was basically “American” prices. It must have been pretty expensive for regular Chileans.

The subway was pretty easy to figure out. Get your tickets at the window. Feed the ticket into the machine (kinda like in Japan). Stand on the platform and wait. One side went downtown, the other went…um…not downtown. The cars were clean and bright. As we got further towards the city center the car filled up, but never to an insane amount. It was a Saturday after all.

We exited the subway and stepped out into the low evening light. I LOVE winter evenings downtown. The yellow glow shooting between buildings, the erie grey of the shadows, the crisp air.

This area was old. I mean, the city has existed since 1541. (holy crap) I just looked that up. Wow, I was guessing 1700’s. The buildings had that solid rock look with ornate cravings that you could imagine a craftsman working on.

I started us walking in the correct direction and we started to wander. If we saw a street that looked interesting we went down it. We stumbled upon a major walking street full of shops, vendors, performers and people.

And not only that…it had…the very first…public…CLOCKS. And more than one! (wait for the film…)

We passed several different young ladies singing to pretty large crowds. I think they were selling CDs too. And they had their own gas generators to power their PA’s.

Will bought a churro…I warned him against it. Who knows when they last changed that fry oil? Apparently it was delicious…and he paid for it later.

As we headed North towards the river we entered a slightly seedier part of town. It was interesting how quickly that became apparent. It wasn’t dangerous, but the character of the area changed. Then in front of us we noticed an elevator up a hillside. Yeah…an elevator up a hill.

People were going up it, and we decided to join it. It looked like it might lead to a park or something…if my memory of the guide book served me correctly.

It did. The elevator opened up to this strange mix of a garden, park, and castle. It was pretty amazing…and the views were out of this world.

We were wandering around at the top, taking pictures, trying not to stare at the couples making out when the first Chileans talked to us. It was two young guys, probably in their late teens or early 20’s. We talked about why were were in Chile (snowboarding), how beautiful Chile was, and then they tried to sell us drugs.

At least I thought they did. Will thought they were only making conversation about how cheap and awesome Chilean Joints were.

I think they are selling ice cream?

This hill top is called Santa Lucía Hill.

(click for bigger pans)

By the time we made it down the hill it was night. We walked down the nearest largest street to get our barring and just happened to come across the subway stop we needed. But we were both wicked hungry and decided to look for something to eat downtown.

We ended up at what can best be described as a Chilean Greasy Spoon. It was a little tiny diner. As you walked in there were cubes on either side. To the right was the chef’s area, to the left was the cashier’s. Then in the back 20 or so seats were crammed in a strange mix of tables, booths, and counters.

The proprietor was very friendly. He spoke to us in English and asked us about our trip and what sort of food we liked.

“Carne y queso” was Will’s response. The man laughed.

We both ordered the “Lo Pobre”…Will with steak, me with Chicken. It’s a grilled piece of meat, topped w/ a fried egg, and served with fries. A pretty dang good meal. Will had a Coke (which are as good as “Mexican” coke) and I had a Chilean beer that I’d tried at La Parva.

The food was awesome. We headed back towards our hotel full and happy.

After naps we headed out. It was almost 2am…but people were out until at least 4:30 last time, so we should be good right?

We took a cab to a new area, one that seemed to have more bars. The first place we went to – totally empty.

So we walked to place number 2. Along the way we stopped at Dunkin’ Donuts for a snack. And there were NO donuts.

No donuts in a Dunkin’ Donuts. WHERE WERE WE, CRAZZZZY TOWN?!?

The club area was pretty cool. 4 or 5 places in one little courtyard. We sat down in an outdoor area and ordered some nachos. Will got a redbull and I tried to order a redbull and vodka.

Backstory on redbull. If you order a “redbull” you get a blank look back. They have NO idea what you are talking about – even if you point at the redbull fridge. This happened multiple times to us. So we’d learned to pronounce it “rehd-büll.”

I shit you not. “Redbull” nothing. “Rehd-büll” prompt drink delivery.

So here I ordered a “Rehd-büll con vodka.” Nothing.

I said “Rehd-büll” and the guy nodded. I said “con vodka” and I got a blank expression.

The waiter motioned to hold-on and he went and got a woman. She said to me in broken English “I’m sorry, but we don’t have Vermouth.”

uh what? Will and I looked at each other with a WTF expression.

I repeated myself “Rehd-büll con vodka” and she said “ooooh vawd-ca.”

yeah, seriously.

It was like no one had ever ordered this drink before. Between the two of us, we’d probably had this drink in 6 or 7 countries. But in Chile, they were completely confused by it. And they had other redbull + ___ drinks on their menu.

After our drinks and snack we headed to another club for more libations. But they just had last call. It was barely after 3am. Oh well. The whole night was pretty much a bust, but at least we tried.

We headed back to the hotel…tomorrow we’d be leaving for the US.

July 10th. My birthday. It was the 2nd time I’d celebrated my birthday overseas. The first time was 10 years ago. My family was in Corsica in the mountain village that the Guidici’s hail from. Poggio Di Nazza is hundreds of years old and it’s built on dozens of different levels. In Corsica, the locals lived in the mountains so that they could see the invading armies approaching and run into the hills. Pretty much everyone controlled the island at one time of another…The Greeks, The Romans, The Moors, The Genoese, The Nazis, and now…The French.

On the evening of the 10th we were in a bar and the locals learned it was my birthday. They spontaneously broke out singing “Happy Birthday.” It was a special moment.

In Chile I was greeted by Clara and Jessica with wishes of felix cumpleaños, hugs and kisses. Then Clara brought me out a piece of cake with a candle and sung “Happy Birthday” to me in Spanish. Outside of being home with my family, I’m not sure I could think of a better birthday breakfast.

We packed up our things and then went out to get a few Real Luke pickup shots. I’d thought about the shoot that night and realized I wanted to do a couple things differently. The light was a little different, but for the shot needed it wouldn’t be too much of a problem.

Then we said our good byes. “Estoy triste” Clara told us as we prepared to leave. We were sad too. It’d been a great week with this wonderful ladies.

The drive down was pretty chill. Well, as chill as it could be with the hairpin turns, lack of guard rails, and Chileans coming up for the weekend with a loose concept of “lanes.” Pretty much guaranteed if we encountered a car coming up hill – it would be in our lane.

The is a great example of how steep the road was. See those three roads that look like they are RIGHT below us? Those are parts of the same road we are on…yeah.

In some ways it reminds me of the roads to ski areas in the Los Angeles area…cacti along the road.

We stopped at the bottom of the hill and gassed up. Then unsuccessfully looked for any thing that said “Ski Farellones,” or “La Parva, El Colorado, or Valle Nevado.” Where was all the tourist crap???

One of the places we looked was called Mall Sport. It was a giant mega mall that had a shop for every outdoor activity. And that’s not hyperbole. They had shops for everything from boating to knives to skateboarding to golf. And they had many facilities to try out the various gear…as the pictures below will attest to.

We left there and headed towards Santiago. The google directions we downloaded seemed fairly straight forward…but we were soon to learn that what google said and what the SIGN said were not always the same thing.

Our first problem came when we passed our exit. It was supposed to be “Americo Vespucio,” but the sign only said “Vespucio.” Was that the same road? We saw signs for other “Vespucios” further down the highway, so weren’t sure if we’d gone far enough. The road signs listed another one at “19.” Was that in 19 KM or was that exit 19? We continued down the highway figuring it would be easy enough to turn around if that next exit was the one.

It wasn’t that easy.

We got off the freeway and there was no clear way back on. Plus it was one of those spots where multiple freeways were crossing – so I feared that even if we got back on the freeway, we might get on the wrong one. Which would only compound our problem.

This ended up not being an immediate problem since we couldn’t get on ANY freeway. We drove down the street through a lower class residential area. There were a lot of people out walking around and going to a park that bordered the freeway. There were the requisite dogs…and even some horses. After about 6 blocks we realized we took a wrong turn and flipped it around.

Somehow we made it into a slightly more commercial area and seemed to be heading away from the road. Will suggested we turn back around. I agreed. We were pretty sure we were above the freeway…but were unsure if it was the correct one.

We turned around and saw an on-ramp. We took it. As we drove up towards the freeway we finally saw a sign. It was the right road, Corso Norte!!! High fives all around.

When we exited Vespucio we headed the wrong way. Getting off the freeway and onto the correct road THAT THE EXIT WAS FOR required a u-turn and 4 other merges or turns. We ended up going the wrong way. The options would be labeled north/south at the first turn…but not at the 2nd…by the 4th we were completely turned around.

As went over a giant hill and away from the river I realized we were going the wrong way. Again.

We took the first exit and Will quickly realized that the there was NO on ramp the opposite way. As we got BACK on the freeway going to wrong way (it was at least on purpose this time). I figured that the signage of the exit w/ an “X” on one side must have something to do w/ the availability, or lack there of, of onramps to the freeway.

On the US State Department website it says something like “traffic signs in Chile differ from those in the USA.” But is there a list of these signs? No. Does my guidebook have them? No. Am I the first person to get lost in Chile??? I’m gonna take a wild guess and say “no.”

Finally we were on the correct road, going to correct direction. In no time at all we were at our hotel, checked in, and relaxing in the nice, clock free room.

However, the LOBBY of the hotel did have the only clock we’d seen up until that point.

Our batteries recharged we headed out. Both Will and I liked to walk around new cities, so that is what we did. It was a beautiful winter day in JULY. The light was golden and low. The air was crisp and cool. We headed towards the city in search of some food and cortados.

Along the way we stopped to film some motorcycle delivery drivers. There were a TON of them and they fascinated me. They were basically riding dirt bikes and about 50% them were wearing slip-on loafers.

We grabbed a quick snack of chips from a street vendor. We never saw any “real” street food…lots of carts selling stuff, but it was all packaged goods. Probably for the best…at least as far as our stomachs were concerned.

As we sat on the ledge of a fountain and ate our chips, a young man was giving a woman a Tarot card reading on the other side. I never saw anyone beggining for money in Chile…but there were LOTS of people performing and entertaining out on the street. You’ll see the performers and delivery drivers in the film…coming soon(ish).

After coffee we met some friendly streets dogs. There were a group of 4 of them that we found in a park. We played with them a bit and they seemed to love the attention. Keep in mind, we were basically DOWNTOWN. High rises around us and these random dogs, just hanging out. They weren’t mangy or dirty. They weren’t thin or hungry looking. They were friendly and smart. They’d wait for traffic signals to change – and would watch us to see when we would start across the street.

They walked with us basically all the way to our hotel…and that was a good mile away.

Naps were followed by a trip to an alright restaurant for dinner. It was basically the same sort of food that we had at La Parva. It was tasty, but nothing really out of the ordinary. We went back to the hotel and rested up for our night out. I had a recommendation from a Chilean who lived in the US of a fun bar/restaurant.

The cab we got into didn’t have seatbelts…or a working first gear. The driver would make turns from the middle lane. It was pretty awesome.

El Barril was the spot. It was super packed and seemed to be in a transition from dinner to bar. There was a band playing that oscillated from Mariachi music to Karaoke, to Rock-a-billy covers. It was a little odd…but the people there were LOVING IT.

The drinks were strong. You could smoke. But no girls would make eye contact with us. Rare for Will and I…and especially rare when traveling. Two white guys with mustaches and tattoos. We obviously weren’t from there and usually that works in our favor. But apparently, not in Chile. Never did figure that one out.

Neverless, we stayed until 4am. We talked about life, snowboarding, BS…just a good hangout. It’s nice when you are traveling with someone and on Day 7 you still have things to chat about. That wouldn’t be possible with everyone…

We grabbed a cab back to Hotel and after some myspace/facebooking we crashed.

A full day in Santiago lay ahead of us.

For our last day of riding we decided to split it up between La Parva and Valle Nevado. The weather was totally bluebird and there were some jumps that we didn’t get to hit our last trip to Valle. Plus we wanted to do some highspeed cruisers at La Parva while the corduroy was flawless.

It was nice knowing the area a little bit. We knew our way around enough to head straight for the goods.

They only had trail maps at Valle Nevado…for El Colorado and La Parva we had to rely on boards like this.

I was figuring out when to film…and getting better about metering correctly. Next time I’m going to pack a roll of ASA 25 too. Or get a ND filter. Or both.

We lunched at the same patio as our last time at La Parva. As we walked up we ran into Sebastian (our ride that day). He asked if we could meet at 5:30 instead of 5pm. That was fine by us. All the more time to ride. It was nice interacting with someone who spoke enough English to have a conversation.

After lunch we headed to Valle Nevado. We rode down to the base of the backside and discovered a HUGE lift-line. There was cat-track that went up towards the main ski area and a fair amount of people hiking up it. According to the trail map it was about a 100 meter rise…I figured that we could do it in about a half-hour. The line looked like it would take at least that long. So we decided to walk…at least we’d be moving. About 2/3 of the way up a snowmobile pulled up. He whipped around and talked to us in Spanish about getting a ride. There was two other kids, one of them hopped on the back and the other three of us grabbed onto a tow rope. The order was kid, me, and at the end Will. As we started forward I had doubts if the kid could make it all the way up. He was bent over and barely tracking forward. It wasn’t moments before he started wobbling left/right – like he was getting speed wobbles on a skateboard.

Now this rope wasn’t very long. The distance between the tail of his board and the nose of mine was probably about 18 inches. So when he crashed, I immediately ran into…er…over him.

He caught his front edge and went down in a flash. And there’s a good chance I ran over his head.

Will hung onto the rope and swerved around the carnage. A few meters up the hill the driver realized he’d lost his passengers.

The kid was shaken, but wasn’t bleeding. I asked if he was ok, and he said “yes.” But, he didn’t get up right away so he must have been hurting.

We regrouped and teed up again. This time – we had him get on the end of the rope. If he crashed again it wouldn’t take us all out. In no time at all we were at the top of the hill – ready to ride Valle.

There were a LOT more people here than any day previous. It was kind of a shocker having to stand in lift-lines…but nothing worse than a weekend at Mammoth. In the first line we heard someone yell, in English:

“What up Gangstas!?!? Seattle in the house!”

Heh. We saw a dude throwing up his arms as he got on the chair. I had no idea who he was. Will thought maybe he talked with him a couple days ago in the lodge.

We rode the chair up with a couple Brazilians from San Paulo. One of them had just started snowboarding. The other had been at it a while and had actually lived in Vancouver, BC. He’d been to LA recently too which was kind of cool. When we told him where we were from he mentioned that he’d heard about us from his friend. I guess we rode the chair with him at La Parva? I dunno. Apparently there aren’t too many guys from Seattle riding Tres Valles that week.

Once the light started to fall we broke the Super 8 camera out. We got some good follow runs and a couple hits on film. The jumps were pretty awesome…but the landings were pretty beat. None of them were really steep enough and since they were super packed down – it made sticking the airs a little harder. We rode hard and fast until the end of the day.

As we headed back to La Parva, Ski Patrol was putting up ropes. We were afraid he wasn’t going to let us across – but he did. There was a little bit of walking on the trail back over…not too stoked on that. It’s funny cause the guide book talked about “expert skiers” enjoying the interconnections…but really they were just cat-tracks. And this one wasn’t even down hill.

The light was really starting to fall now. Some of the lifts had already shut down. We took an outer run that we’d done on our last visit here. It was a fun ride down. Even though we couldn’t see too well in the dusk – the grooming at La Parva is so good that we just loosened up our legs and flowed over the terrain. Of course we jamming past some locals on the way.

Riding down to the lodge it really felt like we were the last people on the hill. No one was going up the lifts and no one was coming down. The view was incredible and it felt great knowing that we’d made the most of our last day riding in Chile.

At lodge we relaxed and had a couple of cortados. There were several people on laptops hanging out – naturally they were on facebook.

Sebastian was a little late. We were getting ready to hitch-hike back to Farellones when he walked up. I asked if he wanted to have a beer and he said “why not?” So Sebastian, his friend Francisco, Will and I hung out and chatted. There were both interesting fellows and it was clear they’d know each other for a long time. Sebastian coached skiing and for 10 years had lived the endless winter. Traveling from Europe to Chile and back again. He’d lived in Spain, France, and Italy. Now he runs a kayak guide business in the south of Chile during the “off season.” He was pretty excited to get to experience summers again. Francisco was a pro skier for Atomic.

They asked what we did for work. I told them I was a filmmaker and editor. Will responded that he was a drummer in a metal band. Sebastian remarked to his friend, “son artistas.” That was kind of cool to hear. I guess since my peer group is almost ALL artists I forget that most people do other sorts of work.

That night Jessica made me a birthday dinner. I was truly touched. She not only made a special meal for me, but she had remembered that Friday was my birthday. I’d mentioned it to her in my broken Spanish right after we met…and originally we weren’t going to be staying until my birthday – but our plans changed and she remembered. That’s really emblematic of how welcoming she and Clara were. During our entire visit we felt completely at home. It was like staying with extended family…not what I’d expect in a lodge or hotel – but it really made the experience incredible.

After dinner we walked up La Capilla to Sebastian’s place. He’d invited us over for a BBQ he was having. We got there and the guys were out on the deck, drinking, smoking and talking. They told us to come up to the 2nd floor. The house they were in was really old. Lots of stone, exposed wood, and a strange staircase. We weren’t really sure when one floor ended and the other began – and we weren’t sure if they used European floor numbering or American. Was the ground floor 1 or 0?

Needless to say we walked into the wrong apartment. There was a kid in there who starred at us as he talked on the phone. He didn’t say anything. Only a little odd…

Everyone was super friendly at the BBQ. There were some ski-bum types, a lawyer, a mining engineer, a girl who’d lived in Tahoe, and a French Canadian. And there was meat. A never ending parade of meat whet onto the BBQ – which they cooked with ACTUAL logs. There were making their own coals on the spot. One side of the grill had wood burning and once it became coals they pushed it to the other side under the meat. Very cool.

There was a a fair amount to drink. Coca Cola, Johnny Walker, and this “Troll” beer that a friend of Sebastian’s makes somewhere in the south of Chile.

It was funny listening to the Chileans complaining about other people’s Spanish…Puerto Ricans and Mexicans mostly. That was about all that I could pick up from their Spanish conversations. Luckily for us, a few of them spoke English and chatted with us.

I’m not really sure what time we left…no clocks anywhere of course. It was late, but they were still going strong.

Tomorrow morning we’d be leaving for Santiago.

This was our “off day.” A day to relax and rest up. We’d been riding pretty hard, at high altitudes, in the middle of summer and were pretty sore. We didn’t really sleep in, since breakfast was at the same time…but we did get to laze around.

moonset

After breakfast and a few cups of coffee I grabbed the Super 8 camera and set out to record some B-roll. I wanted to get out before the light was to bright and high in the sky. I took with me a roll of ASA 50 and one of ASA 250. As I walked around the sleepy mountain village I shot houses, dogs, hitch hikers and vistas. It was still a bit of a mystery how the footage would turn out, but I felt like I was exposing it better.

Back at Lomas we hung out by the fire. Surfed the intertubes, stretched, etc. Laura and Paulo showed up with a bunch of groceries and more wood for the fire. After unloading the food, Clara walked over to the fireplace and threw ALL the plastic bags into the fire…right in front of us.

The pollution in Santiago was making a bit more sense. In fact, the air in the Farellones was often thick with pollution…I remember a Toyota Yaris driving by and its exhaust being so brutal that it took the air out of my lungs. This is a car that in the US is super clean and super efficient. But here in Chile…things were different.

One of the dogs that “didn’t” belong to Clara…this one she called “Negras.”

For lunch we went to a Pizza shop / Bar that we’d tried to visit a few nights before. The food was good and the people were friendly. We noticed that BELOW the restaurant was another lift of El Colorado – plus a snowboard park and boardercross course. We debated going there for an afternoon session, but after looking at it for a while realized that the park wasn’t actually open. So it wasn’t really worth it.

After lunch we tried in vein to find some souvenirs. It didn’t seem like anywhere had a “Ski Farellones” t-shirt or a “La Parva” headband. The very idea of such seemed strange to them when we asked. It was odd especially since I saw stickers on cars from US ski resorts and people wearing hats from places like “Alpine Meadows.” I guess they didn’t do “logo” apparel here.

The “cloudy” area in the distance is really the smog covering Santiago.

Another napping dog…he had the right idea. We went back to the lodge and crashed out.

We got up just as the light was getting really good. I put on my Real Luke clothes and grabbed the Super 8 and the black and white film I brought. Will filmed me acting out a little spot…I’m going to keep WHAT exactly I was filming a surprise. But rest assured, you’ll see it soon.

Dinner was nice and hearty. We had a cheesy, eggy, meaty souffle sort of thing. And a meringue pudding desert.

We went back to the bar, Las Montañas…this time it was open – but oh, so empty. I think the only other people there were dudes our age. *sigh* I had another Pisco Sour – this one was made completely different. It was a blended version of the drink I had before. It wasn’t bad, but I think I prefer my whiskey sours.

Tomorrow we’d be going pack to La Parva and maybe doing an interconnection to Valle Nevado…

Today we’d be going to ride at Valle Nevado, we go to El Colorado and get an Interconnection to the other ski area.

Paulo gave us a ride to the ski area. It was an interesting ride. Half the time he was fiddling with his handsfree headset, and the other half we was zipping past backhoes or getting sideways around corners. After each turn he’d do a little headflip to get the hair out of his eyes.

Tickets were 1/2 price today at El Colorado. We were stoked, but apparently you had to ride over to Valle Nevado and THEN buy your ticket? I wasn’t really sure how that worked. After a couple warm up runs we headed over the hill to the other ski area.

El Colorado Pan (click for bigger)

At Valle Nevado there wasn’t a clear place where we were supposed to buy our tickets. And there was no way to ride all the way to the main lodge. So we rode down to the nearest lift. The liftie was cool and said we could ride the chair…but just that one time. It took one more chair to get to the main lodge.

It was definitely different at this area. It’s the place where people come to be seen, shop, and well – maybe ski. It had more of a “resort” vibe than the other two areas.

The ski resort itself was fun. The runs weren’t as steep or as well groomed as La Parva, but there were more opportunities for natural jumps. Lots of windlips and cornices. We hit a few of these and rode around for a while until it clouded up. Since there aren’t any trees, when the light gets flat you really can’t see anything. We had lunch and hung out in the lodge for a while.

The clouds began to break up a little bit, so we left the lodge and rode over to the backside of the mountain. There was the “Tres Puntas” lift. It was the highest point for the three areas. The t-bar up to it was brutal. Our third day of riding in a row had resulted in quite a sore spot on the ol’ inner thigh. This lift was so long, and so steep that it literally felt as painful as a tattoo. The sort of all encompassing, white hot pain that you have to just think your way past.

The top of the chair was really really cold…but the views were amazing. The mountains around us were so jagged and rugged. It really felt like we were IN the Andes here…not just on the edge.

The ride down was pretty rough. The light got flat again and we had a cat-track we HAD to ride down in order to get out of this valley. The only points of reference we had were dark blue bamboo pulls on the uphill side of the track. It was SUPER sketchy. Will wrecked once and I almost flew off the cat-track numerous times. The snow was super packed down and there was no way to see any bumps or holes or rough patches on the run.

A couple more excruciatingly painful t-bars and we were at the top of El Colorado. We rode around the mountain top and came out on the West face, looking down towards the Santiago. The view was breathtaking. I know I keep saying this…but it keeps being true. The sun was starting to set and had fallen below the cloud layer. We could see shadows again.

We rode around for a while longer…making sure to stick to lifts that were chairs.

It wasn’t 5 o’clock, but we were pretty tired so we called it a day and went to the bar. I order “un pisco sour y un red bull.”

I got 2 pisco sours and no redbull.

The pisco’s were alright, a little on the sweet side for me. We headed home with Paulo.

I asked Clara if these were her dogs. She said no. But she’d named them, fed them, and they slept in her woodshed. I dunno, but that sounds like they are her dogs.

Some of the amazing food we were served.

Coffee, reading, then we went out…

We wandered around for a while with the Southern Hemisphere star map that my folks had given me for my birthday. I think we found a couple constellations. The full moon was reeking havoc with night sky. I was hoping someone at the bar could help us out but the bar was closed. It wasn’t even 10pm.

Since we’d changed our plans around we had an extra day in Farellones. We decided to give our legs a break and take the next day off.

Somehow even without an alarm we woke up on time. Maybe it was the people moving around on the floor above us, maybe it was our stomachs, maybe it was the excitement of being on a trip. Whatever the case was at 8am we were eating fried eggs, granola, and fruit. Coffee was served and the sun was shining.

our room

basement

We were going to ride at La Parva. It was too far to walk, so Clara arranged a ride for us. A small Chilean man walked up to us. He didn’t speak English and smelled slightly of tobacco and was our driver. He had walked down the road to us because his van couldn’t make it over the snow and ice. Not exactly the sort of confidence building move you want in your transport to a ski area.

Andes

The van was small, like a Vanagen and it didn’t have seat belts. Not that they would have made much of a difference. The road to La Parva was one of those roads that you don’t want to look down over its edge. But the views…incredible.

It was Monday morning, so you could still see Santiago…

There were two interesting things about La Parva. 1st off, you didn’t put on your own lift ticket. You bought the ticket, then walked up the chair and handed it to the ticket checker and they attached it to your jacket. I’ve never seen this done before. The other thing was that they required a leash. I keep a little one securely attached from my binding to my binding. (It’s supposed to go from binding to boot/leg) But Will… he didn’t have one – and they wouldn’t let him on the chair. I laughed and he went and bought a $3 leash from the rental shop. Everyone in a while a liftie will care…but most of the time you can get by without one.

The riding at La Parva was pretty awesome. The was barely ANYONE on the hill. I don’t think we waited in a lift line all day. The terrain was interesting and as challenging as groomed runs and open faces could be. There was a bunch of drops and natural terrain that with 18″ of new snow would be simply amazing.

Even though it hadn’t snowed in a few days – the snow was so light and dry that it hadn’t packed down. Not like the snow in Washington or Tahoe…that’s for sure. The off-piste terrain looked like it should have been hard and packed down, but we could still get a good edge in it. Most of the time though we just went really really fast down the beautifully groomed runs.

I had my Super 8 camera with me and we shot a little bit of film. I was a little confused by some of the meter readings… one thing I noticed was by noon it was way, way too bright for the 50 ASA. That was the slowest speed film I’d brought, and I didn’t have an ND filter…so the times of day we’d be able to film were going to be limited.

Las Aguiles

We lunched on the patio. Meat sandwiches, papas fritas and a new sauce which we dubbed “tardinaise.” Will bummed a smoke from a cute girl working at the café and we relaxed in the sun for a bit. It was amazing how cold it still was. But this was a good thing, cause it was keeping the snow fresh.

After riding we stopped into a café at the base. I was suffering from a little altitude sickness. It was just a mild headache and could be easily remedied by an Advil and a cup of coffee. I heard the guys behind us order a “cortado.” This was one of the few foods I’d read about in the guide book that I was looking forward to trying. It’s espresso with a dash of hot milk. Like a latte – but instead of mostly milk, it’s mostly coffee. We ordered two of these and some smokes.

They were amazing. I still think those first ones might have been the best made coffee’s we had the entire trip…or maybe it was just the excitement of trying a wonderful drink for the first time.

We finished our coffee and headed to the parking lot to thumb a ride back to Farellones. A guy driving a pickup truck picked up us and two skiers. On the way back we chatted. One of them had been a instructor at Homewood. It’s a little area on the West Shore of Tahoe…and one of the few Tahoe areas I’ve never been to.

These houses remind me of the famous “Case Study” houses in the Los Angeles area. Like the Eames House.

Los Condes y La Capilla

When we got back to the lodge Clara was a little annoyed with us. Apparently we were supposed to ride back with the guy that took us there. Oops. Well, he’d never told us a pickup time. Not that it would have made much of a difference…there were NO clocks in Chile.

Seriously.

We had not seen a single one.

No in the ski area lodges, not in Lomas Del Viento, not in our room, not at the top of ski lifts. It was really really strange.

pan (click to see bigger)

After dinner we took a walk looking for an internet café.

modernist

As we walked up La Capilla the moon began to rise right over the peak, directly in front of us.

We’d walked up the right street on the only day at the perfect time to see this.

A full moon wouldn’t rise like this the entire year. Time seemed to slow…I noticed the cold thin air, the crunch of gravel and snow under my feat, the way the light was mix of dusk and moon rise. It was an amazing moment.

Several places had wifi – but no one had computers. Or a place to buy phone cards. Or pay phones.

Still a little stranded…but well, we still had another day to figure out what we were going to do…we decided we could drive to Santiago the next day and find an internet café.

panther? check. flame? check. cinder block? check.

Back at Lomas, I told Jessica that tomorrow we needed to go to Santiago – for the day, to use the internet and call our parents. That was probably the best Spanish I spoke the entire trip.

AND…it turns out that they had a computer and a wireless modem. Not just any computer, an iMac. Once we got on the internet we were able to contact our folks, get a phone card, look up some words, and research changing our plans. It looked like the other area wasn’t open. We decided to see if we could stay 2 extra days in Farellones – and 1 extra day in Santiago. I emailed the appropriate people. Then we looked up the Spanish for “Power Adapter.”

It was…no joke…

“Adaptador de la energía.”

hehe.

Clara had one.

We were back in contact with the world, we could charge our cameras and we had a plan.

Tomorrow we’d be riding Valle Nevado.

We suited up and walked the 5 or so minutes over to El Colorado. We bought tickets and headed up the lift. Not a “chair,” mind you but a lift, a surface lift.

In this case it was a “T-bar.” Now these are not the most comfortable things on a snowboard. When you are skiing, you basically just sit down on the thing and it pulls you up. You get to use that nice fleshy part at the top of your legs…i.e. your buttocks. But when you are snowboarding, you have to wedge one arm of the “T” in between you legs and it presses against the tender part of the inner upper thigh. It’s not so bad at first…but give it a few days of riding.

As we didn’t have inner thigh bruises yet we were able to enjoy the 1st lift up. It was a pretty awesome feeling. Here we were in the middle of our summer, in a whole different hemisphere, snowboarding. As we gained elevation we got our first real look back into the valley. We could see Santiago in the distance, light trails of smog creeping up the valleys towards the mountains. It was truly stunning.

It took about 4 lifts to reach the top of the resort. There was a mix of chairs and surface lifts. The resort itself was basically like Snoqualmie Pass in Washington or Boreal in Tahoe. Open and a little flat. There wasn’t much in the way of natural terrain and it was too early in the season for the park to be really built up. Never less, it felt great to be on our boards after traveling for a day.

After riding for a couple hours I was rather hungry…and thirsty. We stopped at a mid-mountain lodge and I noticed they had “wi-fi.” Sweet! I could mobile upload a pic or two and wouldn’t get dinged for international data roaming! I opened my jacket to grab my iPhone but it wasn’t there… I took out my passport and wallet. It wasn’t jammed in between them. I checked my other pockets. No dice. Will thought I must have left it at the lodge…that was a possibility, but I was sure I’d packed it.

We decided to ride down to the ticket counter and ask if I’d left it there. If I’d brought it snowboarding, I might have taken it out when I bought my ticket. We jammed down the mountain. I was still having fun riding. The trails were well groomed and there was just enough people to dodge to keep it interesting.

The man working at the ticket counter didn’t speak English, but I think I was able to communicated that I left my iPhone there. He didn’t have it and didn’t remember seeing it…

We headed to the main lodge, where after wandering around and asking people where the “lost and found” was we ended up in an office on the ground floor. The woman working there said nothing had been turned in. I asked if there was a form or something I could fill out. She handed me a blank sheet of paper and had me write my name on it. I also included phone and email – cause if they found it, they’d have to contact me somehow right? The whole procedure seemed a little ramshakle and not too well thought out. I mean, it wasn’t a HUGE ski area, but it was big enough you’d expect them to have some sort of procedure for it.

Will asked if I wanted to go back to our lodge and check there. I said it didn’t really matter. The phone was either there or it wasn’t. Going back now would only take time away from riding. So that is what we did.

Eventually we headed back to Lomas Del Viento. A group of Uraguans staying there and we chatted with them. When we mentioned our travel plans they remarked that the ski area we were planning on going to wasn’t open yet. This was a cause for alarm. Going on a 600KM drive south to a ski area that wasn’t open would be a lot of driving for little reward. We started to ponder what we might do…but we no longer had internet access, so we weren’t really sure how to verify this piece of data.

It addition to not having internet access, we now had:

1.) No phone
2.) No alarm clock
3.) No spanish dictionary / translator
4.) No camera that we could charge

This was “the best example of a keystone technology” Will remarked. It was true. The jet had only one engine.

We had no power adapter for our other electronics…and since we had no dictionary and our hosts didn’t speak English – we couldn’t ask for one. We just had to hang on until we figured something out.

In the meantime, all we could do was laugh.

Dinner that night was amazing. Soup, Pork Chops with yammy mashed potatoes and chocolate pudding for desert. We had no idea the food was going to be like this.

We went to bed tired from a long and event filled day. Plans might need to change, but for now – we had no way of changing them…but we had a car, all our gear, and a place to stay for the next two nights.

And tomorrow we were going to have our 2nd day of snowboarding in the Andes…so really, how bad could things be?

Now if we could only wake up on time for breakfast…

We were in Chile. But we could have been at any airport anywhere…basically we were standing in a series of lines and talking to a series of people. Oh, and we had to pay $131 dollars to enter the country. The US, Canada, Mexico, ALBANIA and a few other have to pay a few. The fee for Los Estados Unitos is the highest, naturally.

As soon as we left Customs we were surrounded by people hustling taxis. I repeated “No nesesito, gracias” as we paid our way to the Budget rental booth, the guy knew who we were. Sadly they didn’t have any snow chains. But, we did learn what they were called, “Cadenas para Nieva” and that we could rent them from various places along the road.

Our first translation problem come shortly there after…”Sin Gas or Con Gas?” Water in Chile is always available with or without bubbles. And for some reason I’d forgotten the Spanish for “without.” I mean, “sin” isn’t that far from “sans” or “sanza” but for whatever reason – it took a bit to figure out what the clerk was talking about.

With waters in hand we walked out into what was most definitely a winter morning. Will lit a smoke and our jaws dropped as we got our first look at the Andes in daylight. They were so big, so rugged, and so close. We shot some film and wandered over to get our car.

Airport Pan (click to see it bigger)

The first random dog we saw, just chillin’ in the rental car parking lot.

The seats didn’t fold down, but we made due. The tripod didn’t really stay on the dash, but we made due. We were on the road doing a blistering 80km/hr.

We drove on a cross city freeway through the North of Santiago. The road ran parallel to the river that cut through the city and I was excited to see it. Our hotel was near it in the “Vitacura” disctrict and I’d thought it would be a good walking destination for us. It wasn’t really what I’d expected. It was small and fenced in. The banks on either side were covered in trash. The LA river is mostly cement, so I guess this isn’t too much different on the “overall beauty” scale, but I expected something a little different.

The exit from the freeway was interesting, it was a cross between a freeway offramp and an access road to a mall parking lot. It’s kind of hard to explain, but there were about 6 turns and merges from the freeway until we were actually on a legit surface street. We got a little lost in a residential area, drove in the wrong lane towards an SUV, and were shortly on the very windy, VERY mountainous road to Farellones.

But not before we got turned around by the Carabineros for not having chains. We were pretty sure we’d need them, we just didn’t know at what point we had to have them.

Apparently, this booth was it.

We headed back down the road to a group of 5 cargo containers we saw on the way up. I assumed this was where we would rent them. When we pulled up we saw the sign that said “_rent__ cadenas para nieva.” A tanned and leathered old woman fitted our car with chains while a bearded man tried to sell us various gloves and hats. It was cold. Like “Real Winter” cold. I was looking forward to putting on my riding gear.

I think I can safely say this was the gnarliest mountain road I’ve ever been on. We climbed 1000 meters in under 30 minutes through about 40 switchbacks. They actually number the curves there are so many of them. Aside from the trucks, tourist buses, people driving in both lanes, there were also dogs and horses on the road. And it was barely 2 car lengths wide. We took it slow and mellow, I was driving a Toyota Carolla after all…not the REXY.

Andes pan (click for bigger)

Here’s a video I found online, the quality isn’t great – but I think the general idea comes through.

We arrived in Farellones without putting on the chains, there were some icy patches, but nothing that couldn’t be navigated past by driving in the opposite lane. When in Rome….

I kept an eye out for the street our lodge was on, “La Capilla.” We didn’t have a map or an address…because there wasn’t one. The woman who I booked it with said “transport will know where it is” but since we drove that wasn’t going to help us. I figured there would be a sign on it, or someone would know where it was. We found the street, parked and started to wander around. The street was covered with ice and we’d just as soon not drive back and forth on it…

We walked down the street and didn’t see it. We walked up the street and didn’t see it. We asked several people about it, no one knew. I saw a sign on another lodge that I recognized from the website. I figured if they were from the same management company someone there would know where it was. The place was empty. The office was empty. The door was unlocked.

We’d been on the road for a few hours…so we uh, “helped ourselves” to their facilities. On the way out I noticed a “no zapatos” sign… we laughed about someone finding our muddy footprints on their white tile floor later.

galloper

We called the manager, Laura. She didn’t speak English. She passed me to her boyfriend. He kinda spoke English. But only enough to confuse us. We wandered back and forth on the street more. His directions made no sense. We knocked on a few random doors and asked a few more people. No one knew where this place was…and most had never heard of it.

I spotted a guy we’d chatted to earlier, his name was Martin and he spoke pretty good English. I asked if he could call Laura and talk w/ her for us. He said sure, but then my phone wouldn’t dial the number. I still don’t really understand the dialing/number conventions in Chile. Sometimes you need the area code, sometimes you don’t? At just that moment, a woman in white top and checkered chef’s pants walked up the road towards us. Martin and her spoke in Spanish for a bit and it turns out that she worked at the lodge and had come to find us.

Yes! Almost there. We walked up the the car and she (Jessica) suggested that we put on chains. Since I’d rented the car, I figured it would be ok if I let Will take care of this. It didn’t take him too long, and earned him a sweet bloody thumb. As we drove down the road towards the lodge I told Jessica “nostortros estamos en Chile para mis cumpleanos de trenta,” “Cuando?” she relied “diez de Julio,” I responded.

We got to the lodge and discovered that it wasn’t even ON La Capilla, it was off small unnamed road that split off from it. There was no sign and no number. I don’t know how anyone would find this place on their own.

But the place…it was stunning. The lodge was on the edge of a ridge, snow covered mountains and valley were all we could see past it.

(I don’t seem to have my own pic of the place….maybe it was on my iphone)

Inside we met Clara who was the house-mom. She offered us café which we happily accepted. We sat in front of the warm fire and enjoyed the coffee and some cookies.

Then we geared up and headed for the hill. It was just after noon and we could still get a 1/2 day of riding in.

Questions:

a.) Why Chile?
b.) Why in July?
c.) Won’t it be hot there?

Answers:

a.) Chile has mountains. Lots of mountains.
b.) My birthday is in July.
c.) In addition to having mountains, Chile is also in the Southern hemisphere…so our summer – their winter.

Our flight was leaving LAX at 12:40pm. We transfer in Atlanta at 6pm, then arrive in Santiago the next morning at 6am. A long day of traveling, but thankfully the longest section would be at night. And hopefully occupied by sleep.

Angel was in town for a Television Producer’s Conference and gave Will and I a ride to the airport. Naturally we got pulled over to be searched. I was careful not to point my “pistol-grip” Super 8 camera out the window. No sense asking for trouble…and I still ended up getting a shot of the LAX sign.

While the police checked us over Angel (who has Ohio plates) said we were all from California (Will is from Washington state) and that we were going to Peru (we were going to Chile)…but we made it through none the less.

At the baggage check the woman tried to charge us extra for our “surfboards.” I responded that they weren’t surfboards, they were skis…er, snowboards. She had us open our bags to prove it. And then didn’t charge us anything extra. Will had to pay $50 on United to fly to LA with his board, so we were expecting to pay again. Maybe I threw her off with the whole “not surfboards” line. Maybe Delta lets you take bigger baggage. Either way, in our eyes we just saved $100.

Next the guy at the X-ray machine called them “golf bags.” The trip was off to a good start.

—–

In Atlanta we ate at Chili’s. Will chatted with the Host about music. From some reason the guy asked if we were “in a band.” In fact, Will’s band “Super Happy Story Time Land” is going to be playing there in August, and he invited the kid to the show. While we waited for our food I called my Grandpa and Grandma. I hadn’t gotten a chance to call on Father’s day (on account of being super sick) and I wanted to chat with them a bit before I left the country. I dunno, call me superstitious or what have you, but I always like to say my goodbyes.

The flight to Chile was uneventful. Will and I crashed tough. When we woke they had already completed the breakfast service and were starting to clean up.

They still fed us.

We landed in the pre-dawn grey of a Winter day. The Andes rose up mightily to the East. I text my folks and sister.

This was it. We were in South America.